


You and I Might Just be the Best Thing

by StarAmongStones



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Underage Drinking, stiles and derek are totally bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarAmongStones/pseuds/StarAmongStones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College au where Stiles is Derek's T.A., Cora is taking Derek's class, and the three of them are socially awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's so Good to Finally Meet You

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is really short. Kind of just want to test the waters, see if there's any interest out there.

“Come on, man. Would it kill you to smile?” Stiles asked his relatively new boss. “It’s been a week, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything but that perma-surly-grumpy face-thing you have going on right now.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Why are you still talking, Stilinski?”

“Stiles, please. We are going to be bros, and bros are on a first-name basis.” Derek opened his mouth, probably to let out a list of true, yet hurtful, reasons that would never happen, so Stiles raised his hand and said, “Nope. No discussion. You get no say in this.”

Derek let out a long-suffering sigh – really, Derek would never last the semester if this was how he reacted to only his third meeting with Stiles – and resumed getting together all the paperwork Stiles would have to read over before classes started.

Stiles tried to gracefully accept his defeat, he really did, but there’s only so much you can look at in a cinderblock room barely wide enough for him to stretch his arms out fully with no decorations (Stiles was beginning to suspect Derek was anti-good things ever happening). So no one could really blame him for pressing on, “Seriously, lighten up. I have a great neon ‘Liquor’ sign Scott accidentally stole a few years ago that I can give you. I think it’d really class up the place.”

“How do you accidentally-“ Derek started, but was cut off by a female voice from the doorway behind Stiles.

“Good luck getting Derek to lighten up. I think you’ll have an easier time getting one of his students to actually care about his lectures.”

“Cora,” Derek lit up as the girl entered the office, “When did you get here?”

Cora crossed the room to hug Derek, letting him lift her slightly off the ground in a bone-crushing hug before she answered, “A few hours ago. I got my dorm key and a few things moved in already, but then I realized I already have someone else on campus who can do all the heavy lifting for me, so here I am.”

Derek raised his eyebrows and asked, “What makes you so sure this person is going to want to help a brat like you?”

“Because I have more than sufficient blackmail material on you.”

“No. I’m calling your bluff. I am not ashamed of anything I’ve done in the past.”

Cora smirked. “Oh, really? Not even that time with the fruit platter and mom’s prom dress?”

Derek visibly paled, and hissed, “You swore.”

“For the love of all that is holy, please tell me that story,” Stiles finally piped up, unable to contain his glee at the developing situation any longer. “I really need to know there’s an actual human under all the frowns and formality.”

Both Derek and Cora turned to stare at Stiles, looking confused, like they had forgotten he was even there. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Cora, this is my T.A. Stiles. Stiles, this is my sister Cora.”

“Okay,” Cora answered, acting every bit as unimpressed by Stiles’ entire existence as her brother was moments before, and turned straight back to Derek.

“Stiles, I apparently have to help this waif move in. Think you can manage the syllabus on your own?” Derek asked, already moving towards the door as if he didn’t care either way.

“Do I think I can manage reading through a syllabus on my own? Gee, I don’t know. I may have to pull an all-nighter, but I think I might just get by,” Stiles rolled his eyes. He picked up the papers and left the room quickly so Derek could lock up.

As Stiles turned the corner, he heard Cora demand quietly, “Why the hell did you have to pick _that_ as your T.A.?”

Stiles huffed incredulously. He had literally said five words to the girl; that much hate was completely unwarranted.

“Believe me, I didn’t," Derek raised his voice, making sure Stiles could hear him loud and clear. "He’s just a randomly-assigned pain in my ass.”

“I heard that, Hale! It’s a total lie, you love me,” Stiles shouted back, pushing open the door to leave the building.

Although the door shut before he could hear Derek’s reply, Stiles liked to imagine he would have said something about how great Stiles was, and how lucky he was to have Stiles work for him this semester. Stiles chuckled at the thought of Derek ever being that nice to anyone.

Derek Hale, Ph.D. was sort of infamous in the Humanities for being equal parts incredibly brilliant and an incredible dick. Honestly, no one wanted to work with him. When Stiles volunteered (because he’s a good person, and he figured it would be fun as hell to screw with the guy and get paid for it), he swears the HR woman wept. So Derek was a little high-maintenance. Except, apparently, when it came to his equally rude sister. No, that wasn’t fair; Derek was much nicer than Cora.

Stiles pushed away all thoughts of Cora as he climbed into his car. He absolutely refused to obsess over any more hot people who don’t like him (Derek excluded, because he totally smirks amusedly at Stile sometimes when he thinks Stiles can’t see). He had enough rejection in high school to have learned his lesson about unattainability and only being interested in people who want him back. Not that he’s interested in Cora or anything. Obviously.


	2. You Must Admit You Want It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pro tip: if you ever want to ask a question about the syllabus in class, don't. It will be covered in great detail, if not that second then when the assignment is due. For the love of God, trust me on this.  
> Oh, and Stiles and Cora get coffee. I should have just written a coffee shop au.

“So, you excited for the first day?” Stiles asked brightly, walking down the lecture hall steps and heading for his desk next to the podium. 

“Unbelievably thrilled,” Derek deadpanned, but Stiles knew there was a bit of truth to the statement. He had taken this very Intro to Mythological Creatures a few years ago in his undergrad, and it was clear how much Derek loved the subject, and loved teaching. “Did you get through the syllabus alright?”

“It was touch and go there for a while, but I had a dictionary on stand-by, so I got through it eventually.”  
The two fell into a companionable silence as they set out all the papers to hand out, and set up the lecture slides. Stiles was so focused that he startled when he heard, “Oh, I can wait outside. I’m a little early.” He looked up just in time to catch Cora quickly look away. Seriously? Was his face just that offensive? 

Derek gave her a look that clearly conveyed he thought she was being ridiculous as well, and said, “You’re only ten minutes early. Actually, it’s weird that you’re the first person in here.”

“There are more outside. No one knew if it was okay to come in yet,” Cora replied before she opened the door to give the go-ahead to come inside. 

"Aw, what naïve, sophisticated newborn babies,” Stiles laughed. He could have sworn he heard a snort from Cora, but when he turned to check, she already had her head buried in her backpack to grab a notebook and pencil. Not that she would need it for the first day. Just as he was about to write her off as another adorable freshman without a clue, she made a swift vertical line, and then a few more, until it was clear that she was drawing. Stiles hadn’t even realized he was transfixed until Derek cleared his throat and began the obligatory introductions to himself, Stiles, and the class itself. 

“Now, who can tell me why anyone would study mythical creatures. What do we get out of this line of work?” Derek asked after forty minutes of reviewing the syllabus (it would have been twenty, but people kept asking hypotheticals like, “What if my dog dies on a test day? Do I get to make it up?”), pacing slowly to the other side of the room. 

Cora raised her hand, and when it was clear she was the only one brave enough to answer, Derek called on her.

“Studying mythical creatures allows us to study ourselves. These creatures often reveal man’s most base instincts, so we are able to see ourselves for what we believe we really are.”

Derek blinked, and said, “Uh, yeah. Yes. Good answer.” Stiles was a little lost until Derek clicked to the next slide on the powerpoint, where Cora’s answer, almost word for word, was written. Stiles stifled a laugh, glancing over to give a surreptitious thumbs-up to her. She actually smiled in response. Stiles was going to count that as a win, even if he was pretty sure she was only riding the high of messing with her brother and the smile actually had nothing to do with him.

After class, Cora and a few random students stuck around. Some were just high-strung students wanting to make sure they understood absolutely everything about the syllabus, but most just wanted to introduce themselves to Derek, flirting shamelessly. Stiles and Cora bonded over it through eye rolls and incredulous shared looks at the more forward students. 

Once everyone else had left, Cora finally said, “You should really have a better password for your computer. It’s embarrassingly easy to hack, Derek.”

"Just for that, I’m assigning you a new teacher.”

“What, you’re kicking me out?” Cora asked angrily. “It wasn’t that big a deal, and it’ll never happen again. Happy?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Derek answered calmly, sliding his computer into his book bag as he led the other two out of the lecture hall and towards his office, “I’m handing you over to Stiles.”

"What,” the two asked flatly.

"Stiles, you took my class a few years ago, so you know what I generally look for when I make the tests. I’ll have final say, but you can write up a special test for only Cora to take, ensuring that she can’t hack into my computer for the test answers before-hand.”

“I would never-“ Cora started, outraged. 

"This isn’t a punishment. This way, Cora, you get to actually learn something. I know you know what I would put on a test, and how you should answer it, so this semester would be a waste of your time if I alone taught you. And, Stiles, this should be good practice for when you become an actual teacher, and have to write your own tests.”

“Not a punishment, my ass,” Cora grumbled beside Derek, waiting for him to unlock his office door.  
 _And we’re back to hating me_ , Stiles sighed internally. _I am going to get severe emotional whiplash with this girl._

“Look,” Stiles started, finally fed up enough to address the issue, “I know you hate me for some reason only known to you and God, but get over it. I’m literally only making up and grading your tests. We don’t actually have to interact.” 

Cora blinked at him before she said bemusedly, “I don’t hate you.”

“She really doesn’t,” Derek confirmed exasperatedly, earning him an elbow to the side. 

“I really don’t know what to do with that,” Stiles answered after a beat, filing into the office behind Cora.

“Process elsewhere, I have shit to do,” Derek shooed with his hands. “Both of you.”

“But I had a few questions about Wednesday’s reading,” Cora said.

“I wipe my hands of you. You are unofficially Stile’s problem for the semester.”

Cora stared at Derek for a few moments before realizing he wasn’t going to budge. She finally sighed, turned to Stiles, and said, “Come on, let’s go to your office. I actually do have some questions.” God help anyone this girl actually hates. 

“Love you, Cora,” Derek called after them as they leave the office.

“You suck, Derek.”

“So,” Stiles started awkwardly after they had taken a few steps, “I don’t actually have an office. I’m supposed to be sharing with Derek, but, well, yeah. So, do you want to grab some coffee? It’s that time of day, on top of being syllabus day, and I’m kind of flagging.”

Cora shrugged, so he figured it was a yes. As they walked, she asked a few questions about whether or not Derek was planning on pointing out the possible similarities between the creatures covered in class that originated from different societies, and which aspects exactly Derek was planning to teach for a few of the creatures. 

“Why is he even teaching about were-cats?” Cora asked, sipping on her Americano. “They’re like real cats, but sort of human. That’s it.”

“So, boring assholes,” Stiles quipped before he could stop himself, and Cora almost choked on her drink. Stiles couldn’t help but feel mildly pleased.

“Yeah, basically,” she answered, once she had calmed down a bit.

“To tell you the truth, I kind of hate were-cats, too. I mean, if we’re going to talk about a blood-thirsty half-human, half-animal, why not just focus on werewolves? They’re fascinating, have a ton of lore about them from almost every country, and they can do a lot more than hiss and inexplicably land on their feet when they fall.”

“Exactly!” Cora nodded. “Werewolves were always my favorite to learn about growing up.”

“So is all of your family really into this stuff?” Stiles asked.

“They were, yeah,” Cora said quietly, looking down to fidget with her lid. Stiles knew that fidget all too well.

“My favorite unit is on the kanima,” Stiles offered. It did the trick: Cora’s head shot back up.

“What? The kanima is almost as bad as the were-cat. Come on, man.”

Three hours later, they had discussed personal opinions about every creature on the syllabus at length, and even some Stiles had never even heard of. Stiles was just about to ask why she was even in the intro course when she clearly knew the material forwards and backwards, but they were interrupted by a nervous-looking boy in a “Coffee Grounds” cap and apron.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry. We’re actually closing right now, so if you don’t mind…”

Stiles looked at his watch confused. “Holy shit, we’ve been here three hours.”

“Sorry, we’re going,” Cora flashed a polite smile at the boy as she stood.

“How did that even happen?” 

“You talk. A lot,” Cora teased. 

“Lies.”

The two walked across campus chatting idly about nothing much until they got to Stiles’ parking lot. 

“I can give you a ride, if you want?” Stiles asked, taking his keys out of his backpack. She didn’t answer right away, and he realized that he probably just put her in a really awkward position. He started to freak out about over stepping boundaries and how Derek was probably one of those people who would make sure no one ever found more than a chunk of his body in any given place and oh God he was going to get fired on his first day.

“It’s nice tonight, I think I’ll walk. Thank you, though,” Cora finally answered. When Stiles finally looked up, she looked more contemplative than offended or nervous. He relaxed incrementally. 

“Okay, great, see you Wednesday,” Stiles blurted probably a bit too loudly, and took off for his car. Smooth. He had thought he’d gotten over this sort of awkward behavior with his last crush, but-

“Shit,” Stiles whispered to himself, leaning on his car a moment for support. No. He could not have a crush on Cora. Would not. She was just a nice girl, and he was confusing his interest in pursuing a friendship with her as something more. He refused to let himself be that teacher that perved on freshmen and oh yeah she’s a freshman. No.

Stiles got in his car, drove home, tried to start researching for his thesis on the modern-day popularity of water creatures. In the end, he was still too keyed up from his stupid revelation, so he watched back-to-back comic book movies until he passed out. He refused to acknowledge later, even to himself, that his last thought before he fell asleep was to wonder if Cora liked these types of movies.


	3. Take me Home I Don't Want to be Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events lead to Cora seeing Stiles' apartment for the first time.

“What are you going to dress up as on Friday?” Stiles asked the Wednesday afternoon before Halloween. He followed Cora to the back table of the coffee shop just off campus. At first, they met once a week to discuss the class with more depth than could be afforded in an introductory level course. Cora was obviously better suited for a more advanced course – Stiles still had yet to ask why she was even in the class when should could have tested into a higher class – and he didn’t want her to get bored.

Like all pure intentions, and Stiles will swear up and down his intentions were nothing but pure, his professional detachment slowly ebbed away until it just fucking crumbled. To be fair, what man could stand a chance against a woman who has seen every episode of _Deep Space Nine_?

So, they were meeting after every class for coffee. They no longer even had the excuse of talking about class, since they had exhausted that topic after only a few weeks. No, now they chatted for about an hour, three times a week, about everything and nothing, slowly getting to know each other.

“Zombie school-girl,” Cora shrugged once they were seated. “Completely uninspired, but I went to an all-girl’s school for my senior year, so I already have the outfit. And my roommate is going to be a zombie, so I’m stealing her left-over make-up.”

Stiles swallowed a big gulp of coffee and decidedly did not think about Cora at an all-girl’s school. Oh, he was going to a special hell.

“What are you going as?”

“You will just have to wait and see,” Stiles replied. “You all get a chance for extra credit if you can guess what Derek and I are dressed up as.”

Cora bit her lip around a smile.

* * *

Friday came, and of course Cora guessed both correctly: Derek went as a Minotaur, Stiles as Panes. It came as a pleasant surprise that over half the class guessed correctly as well, which meant that they were all actually learning something. He shared a small smile with Derek over it.

That was all well and good, but _Cora_. Cora was just unfair. Sure, her outfit was modest enough – her plaid, pleated skirt fell just below the knee, and her black polo was tucked in – but it was just modest enough that it could pass for a Catholic school and fuck that was so not a place Stiles needed to go in the middle of class no less.

“Skirts are the worst,” Cora complained after class, when everyone else had left. “You’re both lucky you never have to deal with them.”

“I don’t know, they seem like they’d be pretty nice,” Stiles countered. “Very loose, and free.”

“You would think that, but then there’s,” Cora paused, “no, it’s just bad. Trust me.”

“Fair enough. You ready?” Cora nodded.

“See you tomorrow morning, Derek,” she called back before they hit the doors. Stiles waved as Derek nodded.

Coffee would have been uneventful – actually, Stiles had no way of knowing because, for all he knows, staying might have tripped something in the universe that would have led to the end of world hunger or the demise of man and Stiles just really likes science fiction okay? – except some douche bag tripped and spilled his coffee all over her. He tripped because he was eyeing her like she was the pizza in a den of lions. Irrationally, Stiles bristled.

“I am so sorry,” the man said. He still had the guts to ogle her while she pulled the shirt drenched in scalding liquid away from her chest. “Here, let me,” he reached for some napkins, taking care to lean as close to her as possible when he reached around her to the counter. Cora was quite visibly irritated with the guy.

“Alright, buddy. I think you’ve done enough,” Stiles couldn’t take it any longer. Dude was totally planning on feeling her up, he just knew.

“But,” the guy started, but Stiles gently wrapped an arm around Cora’s shoulders and guided her out to the street before the man could finish. He glared back at the guy the whole way.

Once out on the street, Stiles shrugged, “My place is right around the corner. You could get cleaned up there, put on some dry clothes, before I take you back?” Okay, so it made just as much sense to just drive her to her dorm, but Stiles was being kind of selfish because he didn’t want to give up even one of these afternoon hang-outs. Also, it would finally get her out of that outfit, which would just do wonders for his self-control.

“Yes,” Cora agreed, and they walked down the block in silence.

“So,” Stiles jiggled his key out of the stubborn lock, and let Cora into the living room. “Here we are. My humble abode.” Fuck, this was awkward. Why was it so awkward? It kind of felt like – holy shit, he was _Notting Hill_ -ing her. His life was officially a rom com. Fuck everything.

She stood awkwardly for a moment before prompting, “You promised me clothes?”

“Oh! Right. Here, hang on a second.” He passed the kitchen to hop into his room, grabbing a towel, an old Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants his good friend from high school, Lydia, had accidentally left a few weekends ago when she drove up to visit. When he looked up again, Cora was watching him from the doorway. He motioned towards the bathroom across the hall with the items in hand before handing them off.

“Thanks,” she flashed him a quick smile before turning away.

Once he heard the shower start up, he fumbled his phone out of his pocket and pressed 4.

“Stilinski, it is Halloween,” Lydia snapped without preamble. ”Unless you’re dying, I don’t want to talk to you. Because if I’m talking to you, I’m not drinking, and that is wrong.”

“Lydia, I’m in trouble.”

“What is it?” Stiles had become an expert at reading her tones over the years, so even though she was pretending she couldn’t care less, she was genuinely concerned.

“Um, I’m kind of in love with one of my students,” he cringed, and started pacing.

Lydia huffed, annoyed again. “No, that’s called lust sweetie. Fuck him or her, and get over it. Bye.”

“No, wait!” When she didn’t hang up, he continued, “I need you to do me a huge favor and drive over here because she’s in my shower right now and I need you to remind me why this is the worst idea ever.” He let the lust comment go because he was pretty sure she was right. Still, they were only having sex in about half of his fantasies. The other half consisted of doing crossword puzzles on rainy afternoons and shit like that. Lust was easier to handle, though, so that’s what he was willing to label the situation.

“That is the worst idea ever,” she confirmed, incredulous. “Why is she in your shower? And why do I need to drive there?”

“I need you to get me drunk tonight. And I need you to supervise me so I don’t do something inadvisable, like drunk dial her and confess things I can’t come back from.” Stiles final stopped pacing to sink into the couch, putting his face in this left hand.

Lydia made a humming noise before saying, “You are paying for all of my drinks, and I’ll take your phone with me if I get laid tonight.”

“I love you so much,” Stiles breathed.

“I know.” She hung up.

He felt like pacing again, but figured that might be really weird to come out to, so he settled for changing into an old Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department shirt and jeans and putting on a pot of coffee. After all, they never even got to order.

As he watched the liquid drip into the glass pot, he took a deep breath and mentally pep-talked himself out of freaking out. He had had crushes before. Huge, soul-wrenching crushes. And now he was just fine. He was even really close to Lydia, and he had spent years of his life pining after her. You would think he would have learned his lesson.

Okay. So he could do this. Stiles could totally do this; has been for months. Now is no different.

“Hey,” Cora greeted as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. “You made coffee. Good. I’m going through withdrawal right now.”

Stiles turned around to ask how much cream and sugar she took and felt his mouth run dry. She bent over to towel dry her hair, then flicked it back in just a way that showed off the long line of her neck. Her wet, slightly curly hair paired with the sweatpants and old t-shirt (his t-shirt, and hello new fetish) combined to make her look so relaxed and unbearably beautiful.

“You going to get me a mug, or what?” Cora asked, eyebrow raised and a slight smirk playing on her lips. And Stiles had been staring. Awesome. Hopefully she would just chalk it up to his quirky personality.

“How do you take it?” Stiles asked finally, turning to the cupboard for two mugs.

Once they’re settled onto Stiles’ couch, things get easier.

“So, where are you from?” Cora asked like she was shooting for playful, but it kind of fell flat.

“Oh, I’m actually from Kansas City. Yeah, I wear Beacon Hills stuff ironically. I’ve never actually been there.”

Cora finally smiled geuinely and shook her head. “You are so dumb.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Hey, did Derek ever tell you we’re from Beacon Hills?” Cora asked after a pause. She started drawing circles around the rim of the mug with her finger, waiting for him to answer.

“No shit, really? What are the odds?” Stiles laughs. And then it hit him: the Hales. The Hale fire that trapped eight family members inside and left only four alive. It’s an enormous discovery, and no words could begin to cover what he was feeling, what she felt every day, so he settled for, “Thank you for telling me.” Cora nodded, and they sipped in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about Stora headcanons on [Tumblr](http://dramaqueenkirk.tumblr.com).  
> I swear, I'm normally a better writer than this. I'll admit, I'm a bit lost on where to go from here, so if anyone has anything they want to see, I am 200% open to suggestions.  
> Anyway, if you're still with me, I guess next up these crazy kids will discuss their pasts. Oh, and Lydia. Lydia will happen.


	4. Somewhere Between the Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OTP : Lydia x Vodka Cranberries

“Take me out,” Lydia demanded before Stiles had even opened his door all the way.

“Lydia, pleasure as always,” Stiles drawled, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It had been way too long since he had seen the girl to keep up any appearance other than fondness.

Lydia bat her way past him into the apartment, and took a cursory look around. “Is she here?” she asked, eyebrows raised in silent judgment.

“No,” Stiles said a bit sadly. He had driven Cora home about half an hour before Lydia had shown up because he knew Lydia would throw down if she ever met Cora. Completely on behalf of him, of course, but still. He knew how cruel Lydia could be, and how loyal. Even though this was his issue, she would still take it out of Cora. He really couldn’t do that to Cora.

Humming her approval, she tugged his arm back to his room and demanded he change.

“But,” he looked down confusedly, “I don’t want to go out tonight.”

Lydia’s gaze turned icy. “You are not hanging me out to dry, Stilinski. You promised-“

“No,” Stiles cut her off, “I just meant that I don’t care what I look like, because I’m not trying to go out. As in, meet people. But I’ll definitely still take you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care,” Lydia rolled her eyes like he was the stupidest person she had ever met. It made him smile goofily; she had given him that look so many times before. “How you look is a reflection on me. How am I going to see any action if people think I associate with the likes of all that?” She waved her hand up and down in his direction with a look of utter distaste.

“Fine, but you get to do all the work,” Stiles flopped down on his bed, content to watch her happily flit around his closet.

Stiles snorted when she held up a black mesh top.

“Do you remember when I made you wear this?” Lydia asked, amusement coloring her tone.

“And literally everyone at that club refused to even look me in the eyes because it wasn’t 1990?”

“That was your own fault. You just weren’t confidant enough in it.”

“You were just messing with me, and you know it! How is it three years later, and you still won’t fess up?”

Lydia turned back into the closet.  “I’m here for you now. Isn’t that all that matters?” Her words a bit muffled from the clothes, but Stiles could hear the truth in them. He smiled privately, and let the moment wash over him. He knew if he brought any attention to it, she would snatch the sentiment back so fast he’d probably break something.

Twenty minutes later, Lydia was attempting to corral his hair into something resembling a style.

“Well, fuck it. You’ll just rock the bed-head look,” Lydia shrugged.

“Aren’t you sort of a perfectionist?” Stiles asked as he slid on his shoes.

“In my own looks,” Lydia concurred. “You, I don’t really care about.”

“I love you, too,” Stiles smiled at her huff of exasperation.

They wandered down the main drag in town until Lydia tugged him into a bar that _spoke to her soul, Stiles, you can’t question a connection like that_.

Once inside, Stiles stared to relax a bit. It probably said something concerning about him, but he’s always felt like the loud, chaotic nature of bars meshed well with his personality. He should look into bartending as a future career. That would make his weird feeling of connection less of the kind of problem he should really get help for. And it’s not like he was ever going to get a job with his advanced degree in mythology, let’s be real.

He was pulled out of his self-deprecating musings when he heard a familiar voice.

“Stiles!” Cora shouted over the din of the bar. “I didn’t know you were coming out tonight.” Someone jostled her from behind, and Stiles instinctively reached out to steady her by the elbow.

“I didn’t know _you_ were coming out tonight,” Stiles shot back, protective judgment lacing his tone. “Should you be drinking that?”

Cora scoffed, “Like you never drank before 21. Plus, it takes a lot to get me drunk. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

Stiles wanted to stick by her to make sure that statement is actually true, but the whole point of coming out tonight was to get away from her. His life sucked.

“Stiles, sweetheart, buy me a drink,” Lydia said sweetly, but there was a hardness underneath that sent shivers up Stiles’ spine. And not the good kind.

“Uh, sure?” he said, hating that, after all these years, Lydia could still make him feel fifteen in under ten words. Clearing his throat, he continued more solidly, “You still drink Vodka Cranberries, right?”

Lydia hummed her agreement, eyes never leaving Cora. Cora looked a little lost, and more and more defensive as the minute wore on. Stiles should have said something. He should have introduced them; gotten in between whatever was going on. He should have.

“Well, see you soon!” he shouted over his shoulder.

When he got back – twenty five minutes later; bar lines were utter hell in college towns – Lydia was wearing a triumphant smirk. Cora had her back to him, but he was willing to bet she didn’t look good; Lydia only pulled that expression out for total emotional annihilation.

Sure enough, when he got close enough to make out Cora’s features, she looked like she wanted to cry. Or punch something. The closer Stiles got, the closer she got to “punch something” territory.

“Fuck you,” Cora said, sounding utterly betrayed.

“Woah, what did I miss?” Stiles panicked, looking between the two. Lydia’s smirk only grew, so she was no help.

“You let me-“ Cora started again, “earlier, I-“ and when she cut herself off the second time, she simply threw her drink on his shirt and stalked off. At least it was mostly ice at the time, but it was still vaguely, unpleasantly sticky.

“The hell, Lydia?” Stiles rounded on her, tugging his shirt out in front of him to dry, like the extra centimeters away from his body would do anything. He had a sudden flashback to a few hours before, when Cora did almost the same thing, and felt a pang of regret that he wanted so much to laugh about it with her.

Lydia’s face went completely stern, all traces of an act gone. “Stiles, that was cruel.”

“You think?” he asked incredulously. “What did you do?”

“What you couldn’t. Stiles, you let that get way too far. What were you thinking?” she smacked his arm, and took a long draw from her drink. He kind of wanted to follow suit, but he didn’t feel like his throat was working properly right now.

“I am so lost here. What did I do?”

Lydia fixed him with a harsh stare. “You know exactly what you did. You of all people should know better.”

“Lydia, seriously, what the fuck? I honestly do not understand what you are trying to tell me here. Please.”

“You led that poor girl on for months, apparently.”

The longer Stiles looked baffled, the softer Lydia’s expression got. “Wait,” she said, “you really, honest to God, didn’t know?”

“Honest to-“ he trailed off, thinking over the past few months. He really hadn’t seen it, but now that he was looking for it- “I am the worst person on earth. How did I miss that?”

Lydia gave him a look that says she was thinking the same, but it was so obvious it was beneath her to utter it.

“Let’s go to a different bar,” he beged. “Come on, don’t make me stay here.”

“You would deserve it. But I guess, maybe, she doesn’t. I am finishing my drink, though. I paid good money for this.”

“No you didn’t,” Stiles clarified, mildly amused despite himself. He was a hundred percent going to feel shitty for the rest of the night, but he couldn’t help but feel some amount of comfort in the reliable familiarity of his old friend. But then he caught a glimpse of Cora across the room, aggressively gesturing as she talked to a girl he didn’t recognize. Probably about him. “I should go apologize, right? Say it was a misunderstanding.”

“Do that and die,” Lydia clamped down on his left forearm. Before he could ask, she said, “Would it have helped if I had apologized to you for not wanting you back?”

Stiles sighed dejectedly. “I hate this. I’ve never been on this side of it before, which sucks, sure, but it sucks even more that I know exactly what she’s going through.”

“Actually, you don’t.”

“Oh, and how’s that?”

“You never had hope.”

* * *

 “If you’ve ever cared about me at all, you will not speak to me this morning,” Stiles held up his hand to stop Derek from talking when he gets to work Monday morning. Like Derek would ever speak to him if he could help it. Stiles didn’t know. He was incredibly hung over. He couldn’t be held responsible for his slow thought processes. He gingerly tried to lift his sunglasses up, but decided, nope, he did not need the fire of a thousand suns burning into his retinas today thank you.

“How are you still hung over? Halloween was three days ago,” Derek asked judgmentally. And loudly. Because he’s a bastard.

“Ah, no,” Stiles groaned. “Stop being so shouty. And I had a friend over, for your information. We were catching up all weekend.”

Derek glared murderously, but then shook his head and said, “Nope. I refuse to get into this.”

Stiles sighed and internally apologized to his pounding head and asked, “Into what?”

“You and Cora. Whatever’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on!” Stiles blurts, wincing. Well, that couldn’t have been more obvious if he had written her name all over his notebooks. Speaking of, he should really catch up on the readings he had neglected that weekend in favor of wallowing with the worst influence to ever flit into his life.

Derek made a disbelieving sound. He didn’t even deign to look up. Stiles knew, he knew, that tactic; his dad used it all the time with uncooperative suspects, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Seriously, I promise. Nothing can, or will, happen. I’m not going to, you know, take advantage of my position or anything. Ugh, I’m so sleazy. I’m that guy. I should be fired.  Please don’t fire me. I’ll get a handle on it. I-“

“Wait,” Derek held up a hand. He waited for Stiles to meet his eyes before continuing, “ _You’ll_ get a handle on it?”

Stiles moaned, and let his head fall into his hands. “Shut up. I’m so sorry I’m into your sister. Leave me to die.”

“You-“ Derek cut off. “I think some wires got crossed.”

Stiles’ stomach dropped. He slowly looked back up in horror. “Are you telling me that you didn’t know?”

Derek shook his head, dumbfounded. And then he got angry. “So you really did lead my sister on this whole time.”

“What? No!”

“You had a girlfriend,” Derek said over him.

“I what? Since when?”

“Since the bar,” Derek explained coolly.

“Lydia?” Stiles asked after a beat. Finally, things started to make sense. Oh, God. “Wires were definitely crossed.”

At Derek’s eyebrow raise, he blurted out everything, finally coming clean about everything from the beginning. “So you’ll forgive me if I didn’t notice anything, because I was kind of busy with some issues of a repression nature,” he finished. His eyes fluttered shut, and he, not for the first time, wondered how he was allowed to live this long.

Derek was quiet for a long while. Finally, he said, “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” he moaned. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“No, I mean, what – dammit, I really didn’t want to get involved – okay, what exactly makes you think you can’t just go for it?”

Stiles gaped at Derek. “I’m sorry, do hangovers cause hallucinations? Because I’m pretty sure I just had one. Did you just tell me to ‘go for it’ with your sister? Who is one of my students?”

“She’s one of my students,” Derek said before he realized what he was saying. He sighed deeply, and continued, “And yes, that is exactly what I’m asking. Cora better realize what I’m going through for her.”

“But I grade her tests. I make her tests. You specifically told me she was my responsibility.” Stiles was very much stuck on this fact.

 “I know what I said. Did you really think I was going to let a first-year T.A. grade anyone’s test without having the final say?”

“I-“ Stiles floundered.

“You grade easier than I do, but you’re not unfair,” Derek shrugged. “Also, you should have more responsibilities, but I don’t trust you that much.” Stiles snorted despite himself. Derek’s lip quirked slightly, and said, “Basically, you have no control over my class. The only reason those non-fraternization rules exist are to prevent abuses of power. Therefore, you have nothing to worry about. At most, wait until winter break to make out in public. Or never do that ever. Drink hot cocoa under separate blankets with at least three feet between each other at all times. That’s what you can do on a date.”

Stiles blinked. “That was just a lot of information to take in. And just so we’re clear, you’re condoning this?”

“No. I hate this. I don’t even want you to look at her. But she was pretty broken up about it Friday, and I want her to be happy. Oh, and tell her I told you about her having emotions and I’ll kill you. Hopefully before she kills me.”

“You – I,” Stiles stuttered, before he said, “fuck it,” and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Derek’s forehead. 

“I will find you,” Derek called after him menacingly as he dashed out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, okay. So sorry it took three years to post this, but here it is. Thanks so much for all the kindness; it's really helped motivate me. Special shout-out to gameofwolves over on tumblr because I'm pretty sure you're the only reason this fic is going to get finished. Also, I hope it's cool I just called you out like that. 
> 
> Also, we're in the home stretch! Two more chapters are planned (which are really one more chapter and an epilogue).
> 
> And, as always, come cry about how Stiles and Cora probably won't have a long-distance Skype romance in 3b, or tell me that Lydia is totally more of a classy Scotch drinker, on [tumblr](http://kirayaykimura.tumblr.com).


	5. Get The Ending Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is a bit of a deus ex machina. Sorry about that.

“So your sister still won’t speak to me,” Stiles plopped down in front of Derek a week after their conversation where Derek totally told Stiles he was thrilled to have such a dashing suitor for his baby sister.

“I will literally pay you to never talk about this again,” Derek bit out, not looking up from his papers.

Stiles thought about it – he was a grad student, after all – but it was fleeting. “I could explain everything if she’d just stay in a room with me for more than twenty seconds, so I was thinking you-“

“Whatever it is, no,” Derek glanced at his sternly.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not getting involved. If Cora doesn’t want to talk to you, you’re going to have to respect that.”

Stiles slumped in his chair. “I know. It’s just hard. I- I miss her.”

“Jesus Christ,” Derek sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

Stiles put his best Bambi eyes on and waited.

After a pause, Derek asked, “I’m not locking you in a closet together.”

Stiles grinned. “That was Plan C anyway.”

* * *

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Stiles cheered as he opened his dad’s front door to Cora, Derek, and Derek’s girlfriend Jennifer. If his words were a little manic, well, no one could really blame him. None of the three on the stoop looked very pleased to be there – except maybe Jennifer – and he hadn’t really spoken to Cora in three weeks.

“It was very nice of you to invite us,” Jennifer offered when she stepped inside the house. Derek nodded his agreement. Cora looked at him thoughtfully. It was a nice change of pace from the mix of death glares and icy avoidance she had been sending his way lately in class, but he had no idea where the sudden thaw had come from.

“Yeah, no problem! The more the merrier, I always say,” Stiles laughed awkwardly. “Here, let me grab your coats, and you can all head into the kitchen.” He introduced them to his dad, Melissa, and Scott before dashing upstairs to throw the extra coats onto his bed alongside the McCalls’.

“No, I’m in the English department,” he heard Jennifer say as he rounded the corner back into the kitchen.

“Ah, English was always my worst subject,” Melissa laughed good-naturedly. “I couldn’t imagine making a career out of it.”

“I hear that all the time,” Jennifer chuckled, and Stiles sighed a little in relief. Everyone was seated around the table except for the Sheriff, who was moving the food from the stove into the middle of their little circle. No one was crying. No one was dismembered. Everyone seemed to be having a pleasant time. Even Cora, who, let’s face it, was the first person Stiles’ eyes sought out and the one he kept coming back to, looked content.

He slid into the open seat between Derek and Scott because, as much as he would have loved to sit next to Cora, Melissa was on the other side of that empty chair. He was nothing if not accommodating for his father's _friendships_. Plus, he hadn’t seen Scott in three months (okay, two days if you counted Skype).

“Alright, everyone,” the Sheriff said as he set the mashed potatoes down, taking his seat. “Dig in.”

The sounds of cutlery and _would you pass the_ ’s rose from the table for a few minutes before silence fell as they all focused on their dinners. Stiles caught Cora’s eye and she didn’t look like she actively wanted to murder him. It was perfect.

Until, “Since I have a new audience, I’m going to tell you all about the time Stiles decided he never wanted to wear clothes again because they were too constricting.”

“Oh my god, dad!” Stiles said, horrified.

“Under normal circumstances, I’d rather not think about you naked,” Derek said, “but I think I want to see where this goes.”

* * *

After dinner they all migrated into the living room to watch a movie. They eventually settled on _The Lord of the Rings_ because it’s always on, but it didn’t really matter because it became background noise after a few minutes. Derek, Jennifer, and Scott started talking about the merits of Tolkin’s work and whether or not it would still be popular in fifty years, and the Sheriff and Melissa started talking about recent heinous night shift stories. Which left Stiles with Cora.

“Hey,” Stiles said hesitantly, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

Cora’s face gave nothing away as she nodded.

“Okay,” Stiles tamped down the curl of hope he felt building in his chest, “can we go somewhere a little quieter?”

“Lead the way,” she said, and allowed herself to be led up to Stiles’ old room.

She pushed the coats out of the way and sat down on his bed as he closed the door just enough to leave it cracked open.

“Okay,” he ran a hand through his hair, and started pacing between his window and the door, “okay, okay. I wanted to say that I’m so sorry for Halloween. There was some confusion on both our parts, and-“

“I know,” Cora said, and was she _amused_?

“You,” he paused, baffled, “you knew? Knew what?”

“Derek told me everything on the way over,” Cora said with a definite gleam in her eyes.

She was _enjoying herself_ while Stiles was practically sweating through his flannel. It was downright cruel to have let him dangle this long.

Damn, he was so in love. And kind of turned on.

"Wait, he told you?" Stiles asked. Derek had shut him down every time he'd asked him to run interference with Cora. The whole situation was suddenly supremely unfair.

Cora rolled her eyes, but he could see a blush creep up her cheeks. "He said he was tired of our whining," she muttered.

She sounded so indignant that he had to laugh. Then, a little more serious, he asked, “You know that I was trying to do the right thing, then?” as he stepped around the bed to stop right in front of her.

“I know that you were a total dumbass for three months, yes,” Cora rolled her eyes. She stood, bringing them almost chest to chest.

“And you know that Lydia was never my girlfriend?” Stiles asked, balling his hands into fists to avoid just reaching out and touching her like he couldn’t help but want for so long. They needed to have some semblance of an actual conversation, given their past.

Cora nodded, but clarified, “That’s still true?”

“No girlfriend,” Stiles confirmed. “Yet.”

Cora’s lips twitched. “Oh, you think it’s going to be that easy?”

Instead of answering, Stiles finally let himself reach out to cup her face in his hands and placed a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. Both their entire families were in the house, and the door to his room was still slightly open; he was in no way risking anything more. As it was, though, it was pretty spectacular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the lovely messages. I'm sorry this took so long to finish. I'm the worst. But it's basically over; just an epilogue of sorts.
> 
> As always, please come discuss Stora, or point me in the direction of someone who handled a teacher/student au with way more finesse than I apparently have, over on [](http://kirayaykimura.tumblr.com/>tumblr</a>.%0A%0AAlso%20this%20is%20unbeta'd%20so%20please%20feel%20free%20to%20alert%20me%20to%20any%20glaring%20errors!)


	6. So Good to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shortest epilogue you will ever read.

“ _A Christmas Carol_ is completely overrated. _It’s A Wonderful Life_ is the best Christmas movie, hands down.”

“Were your dropped on your head a lot as a kid? No offense, Melissa. _A Christmas Carol_ is _the_ Christmas movie. It has the holiday in the title, for god’s sake.”

Everyone watched Scott and Derek’s argument play out with varying levels of fond exasperation. Thanksgiving had given everyone a chance to iron out all the awkward first-time-meeting jitters. Which was clearly a horrible mistake, Stiles realized, as Scott insulted Derek’s intelligence and sexual prowess in one go.

Stiles would have been impressed if Derek hadn’t looked like he was one quip away from wearing a Scott skin suit.

“Okay, whoa guys,” Stiles raised his voice to cut them off. “Those are great choices and all, but the best movie of all time is clearly _A Christmas Story_.”

Every single person in the room groaned and threw popcorn at him.

“No more of this.” Cora stood to look at the shelf of DVDs by the TV. “We’re watching,” she grabbed one at random without even looking at the title, “this one. Whatever it is. And no complaining.”

The _Kill Bill_ menu screen popped up. Everyone looked vaguely pleased or excited about it, so she shrugged and pressed play.

“I’m pretty sure Scott and Derek were seconds away from reenacting the first big fight scene,” Stiles said quietly to Cora as she sat back down.

“You’re welcome,” Cora whispered back. She offered him a small, private smile before turning back to the movie.

Stiles brushed the back of his hand against Cora’s, letting it rest there lightly. She pushed back gently to let him know she felt him there, and left her hand against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this weird idea that all their major events would be marked by holidays? Now that I look back on it, there's no reason for it, but that's why this is spaced the way it is. (They decide to move in together on July 4th, and get married on Arbor Day.) 
> 
> (Another thing I wanted to fit in but just couldn't: Cora is an Architecture major. That's why she was drawing in class on the first day. I had a whole thing planned where they slowly get to know each other and that would have come up, but then I just wrote, "They slowly got to know each other," because I'm trash and you all deserve better.)
> 
> Thank you everyone who took a chance on an unknown kid and a work in progress. I wish I had 300k words to give you, but the story was told. I hope you all like how it ended.
> 
> Special shoutout to [wehavegotthedreamersdisease](http://wehavegotthedreamersdisease.tumblr.com/) because you were always super nice about asking me to finish. This is for you.


End file.
